


Maleficent

by TheHarleyQueen



Series: Korë-verse [2]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Darker Than Disney, Demigod Mal (Disney), Fae Mal (Disney), Isle of the Lost (Disney) is a Terrible Place, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Not Descendants 3 Canon Compliant, United States of Auradon (Disney) Is Not Perfect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22586458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHarleyQueen/pseuds/TheHarleyQueen
Summary: The power of the fey and the gods crack in her bones and, with certainty, she knows four things:Her mother is dead.Her father is free.She has won.She has never been more alone.Mal made a decision that would start a war, and now she has to pay the price.
Relationships: Ben & Evie & Gil & Harry Hook & Jay & Mal & Uma & Carlos de Vil, Ben & Evie & Jay & Mal & Carlos de Vil, Ben/Mal (Disney: Descendants), Hades & Mal (Disney), If I Listed This Last Relationship It Would Be Spoiling, past Evie/Jay/Mal/Carlos de Vil
Series: Korë-verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1580545
Comments: 100
Kudos: 402





	1. Burning Cities and Napalm Skies

* * *

It hadn’t been Mal’s intention to start a war.

No, really.

Her threat to the council had sounded like it, sure, but she seriously never thought it would get this far. She’d thought- ignorantly, looking back on it- that the council would crack. But she’d underestimated the strength of their desire to hold onto power.

So she’s found herself- along with 80-odd kids who are in favor of a regime change- barricaded inside Auradon palace.

{ _At first, they hadn’t been barricaded in. They’d been living there, mostly peacefully (though not without tension) with Ben’s parents, Uma, Harry, Gil, and the four new VKs._

_Then the council had returned their threat with a threat of their own- removing them from their positions if they didn’t drop the concept of freeing the Isle immediately._

_They had also demanded that Uma’s crew and Dizzy, Squirmy, Squeaky, and Celia be removed back to the Isle. The council’s decision was that four kids were enough to spare their souls. That the rest would be damned._

_After that, things had spiraled out of control pretty fast. Mal and Ben had invited some like-minded friends- like, Jane, like Lonnie, like Doug- over so that they could discuss the options available to them, but Ben’s parents had panicked and secretly informed the council._

_She had been forced to ask them to leave- just for a couple of hours- so that her side could discuss their position in peace. Belle and Adam had responded by bringing Auradonian troops to force them out, and Mal’s magic had reacted, sealing **her** people into safety with a barrier similar to the one encircling the Isle. Too similar, when the only difference was that this one was to keep people out, not in._

_Of course, the barrier didn’t keep everyone out- Mal had more control over her magic than **that**. The magic was permeable, allowing people who needed help to receive it, and welcoming like-minded individuals with open arms_}.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t really anywhere to _go_ from here (both literally and figuratively). The Council of Auradon wouldn’t accept anything less than complete submission to their rules, and she and Ben refused to let Auradon's cruelty go unchecked any longer.

She’s floated the idea of just stepping back from their positions peacefully, but Evie pointed out the major flaw in that plan- if they stepped down, they had no leverage.

This all led them to where they were now, locked inside the palace, the main hall converted into a pseudo-dormitory, low on supplies, and the group that Mal was calling a war council { _Mal Evie Carlos Jay Ben Uma Harry Gil Celia Jane Lonnie Doug Chad_ } holed up in the Map Room twenty-four/seven.

Because not only did _all_ palaces apparently have _map rooms_ , but the ones in Auradon were created with a terrifying mix of magic and technology- and so they can watch from the comfort of the palace as Adam paces around the spare bedroom of the Charmings’ palace, and Jafar tries to make a sale to Freddie Facilier and Anthony Tremaine fucks Mad Maddy behind Ursula’s Fish and Chips.

It’s such an invasion of privacy that Mal can’t think about it for too long without feeling physically ill { _but the maps are their greatest ally, at the moment, and so she bears it even when she makes eye contact with Carlos who is as pale as she feels with the terror of what they mean about Auradon_ }.

So here they stand, watching Ben's parents amass their forces outside the palace and wondering if Mal's magic will hold.

“We could call parley,” Uma suggests, but Ben’s shaking his head before she can finish her sentence.

“The council has already given their terms- a complete surrender. They won’t agree to meet with us unless we come bearing a white flag.”

“That’s bullshit,” Celia argues, “this is a _war_ , and that’s not how you go about a diplomatic solution.”

“It’s not a war to them, though,” Lonnie explains, “We’re just a bunch of kids acting out, to them. They won’t take us seriously unless we _force_ them to. As far as they’re concerned, we don’t have enough _experience_ to have actual opinions.”

Mal listens silently to the debate, and somewhere deep inside of herself, she misses the Isle- because on the Isle, people took her seriously or they got _hurt_ and wasn’t that _so much simpler_?

She rubs soft circles across her temples, pushing the blue hair that she’s grown too lazy to hide out of her eyes.

She stares at the marker that says _Maleficent_ , back in Ben’s parents’ room, and wonders what her mother would do about this.

She stares at the marker on the Isle of the Lost labeled ᾍδης and _knows_ that her father is laughing at her- queen of two worlds and locked in one room.

{ _The names revealed are based on true, deep magic. So Mal's name appears as Κόρη, even when she doesn’t speak Greek and doesn’t go by her given name. The map is **dangerous**_ }.

She walks away from the map to lean against the nearest wall. Jay comes to stand next to her. The discussion of their next moves continues without even a pause.

“You know, as our queen, you’re supposed to be providing solutions,” he tells her, but his tone is light and she knows he’s joking.

“Honestly, I’m not sure anyone would actually listen to me,” Mal says wryly, “I led you into this mess, after all.”

“You didn’t force us to follow you,” Jay tells her, “we followed you because it was the right thing to do. Because we _love_ you.” There’s a pause.

“...Some of us more than others.”

“ _Jay_ ,” she breathes, and her chest aches.

“I know you’re happily married, your grace. But that won’t stop us-” he doesn’t need to tell her who he’s referring to- “from loving you for the rest of our lives.”

“Why would you tell me this?” Mal asks him, trying to swallow the tears that are clogging her throat.

“I don’t know.” He looks pensive.

“Maybe I thought you looked like you needed it, Korë.” He’s never called her by her given name before, and it sends shivers down her spine.

She’s staring at him and contemplating doing something _very stupid_ { _like maybe kissing him with her husband just inches away_ } when she feels a shudder run through the forcefield and Uma calls out to her- “Uh, Queenie, there’s a new name in the main room. And it’s Greek.”

Mal leans over to catch a glimpse of the map recognizes the name that has appeared in the throne room- _Περσεφόνη._ _Persephone_.

Her eyes widen as the kids in the main hall gather around the goddess, and blinks out of the map room- _she isn’t going to let this woman- this goddess- take revenge for something Mal hadn't even **done** on Mal's people_.

“Your grace,” she calls out to Persephone.

When the woman turns, she doesn’t look angry. She kisses the nearest child { _Artie_ } on the forehead and rises gracefully, walking over to Mal with such calm and purpose that Mal wonders if these will be her last moments.

“It’s good to see you, Mal,” she says, and Mal is once again reminded that, above everything, Persephone _doesn’t want people to know about her husband’s infidelity_.

{ _A bit too late for that, she thinks-_

**_“Mal, we can’t do that,” Ben whispers softly, “I know that he’s your father, but-” Evie, Carlos and Jay’s eyes flash over to her. Maybe she’s never told them the truth of her parentage, but they’ve known for years. And they’re all aware that if she’s not talking about it, it’s for a reason._ **

**_“How do you know that?” Mal says, over the shouts of the heroes._ **

**_“It’s on your birth certificate,” Ben frowns, “I saw it when I was organizing to bring you here.”_** }

“And you as well, Queen Persephone,” Mal responds, eyes flickering back to the kids { _some of them are probably older than Mal, but Mal is their queen and their protector and they’re **her kids**_ }.

“Perhaps we should sojourn to somewhere a bit more private?” Mal suggests. There’s probably enough steel in her voice to forge a broadsword, but she’s not really keen on giving her step-mother an option here.

“I think that that would be acceptable,” Persephone agrees, as Ben appears at the top of the staircase. The queen’s eyes settle on him heavily for a moment, before she turns back to Mal, “I’ve always been _so curious_ about Auradon maps- perhaps the map room?”

It’s not a suggestion, it’s a command, and Mal nods silently, offering her arm to escort the queen. Persephone takes her arm without fuss, but her grip is so tight it’s ~~nearly~~ painful. As they approach the room, Uma, Harry, Gil, Celia, Jane, Lonnie, Doug, and Chad are quickly making their way out. Mal raises her eyebrows silently, but thanks a higher power that’s _not_ her parents that Ben thought ahead enough to keep Evie, Carlos and Jay in the room.

In the map room, Persephone seems to lose interest in Mal entirely, wandering around the room and inspecting everything { _Mal acted similarly the first time **she** was in the Map Room, which is so thickly saturated with magic that it feels like it’s choking you_}.

"My congratulations on your recent nuptials," the Queen of the Underworld says to her, from her position staring at the map of the underworld up on the wall. Mal, in turn, is staring at her. It's mid-winter, and her skin is so pale it's translucent. Mal can see her skull below her cheeks.

"Although, I was disappointed that I couldn't be there myself. But then again, it was rather rushed, wasn't it, Korë? I _wonder_ why that was." Her smile says she already knows.

"I don't want to play this game with you," Mal says, reaching out to take Ben’s hand from somewhere nearby behind her and pressing him into her side, "what do you want?"

"I just wanted to give my well-wishes," she obfuscates, "and commend you on breaking Aphrodite's heart so _thoroughly_."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ben questions defensively. The hair at the back of Mal's neck stands on end, and Mal knows what's coming before Persephone gets a word out, but she's powerless to stop it.

"Only that she thought- we all did, really- that _her majesty_ would end up with those three," she points a bony finger at Carlos, Evie, and Jay, who are just out of hearing range, seemingly bent over a map, but really poised to strike, should Mal give the signal.

"I- I don't-" Mal stutters, and the Queen of the Dead smiles serenely as she walks off to a different corner of the room.

“Come now, Korë, the fae don’t lie. Although, you _did_ promise me that no one else would find out about your parentage, and you broke that one _very_ thoroughly, didn’t you?”

“I swore that no one would ever find out that I’m Hades’ daughter _from me_ ,” Mal corrected, “Ben already knew, and _he_ told the council. That’s not my fault.”

“But you can’t prove that, can you, Korë?”

“The burden of proof isn’t on me,” Mal argues, and Evie’s knuckles are white against the table and Jay’s inching towards his pocket knife. She needs to diffuse the situation, _now_.

“I can’t make everyone forget my parentage, but I’ll make it up to you,” she says, and it’s not a Promise, not quite, but it’s too close for comfort.

“That’s exactly what I want you to do though,” Persephone tells her coolly, “make them all forget.”

“I _can’t_ ,” Mal argues, “that- that would undermine _everything_ I stand for now. I- I won’t do it.”

Persephone stares at her for so long that Mal wonders if the woman is completely awake, before abruptly turning away again, walking to a small fainting couch that they’d moved to the left wall a couple of days after they occupied the room and people kept falling asleep where they stood. She sits down and her skirts spread around her, pitch black and so smooth they look like they might be liquid.

There’s another bone-chilling silence, and Carlos abandons all forms of pretense to come and stand next to her, taking her other hand in his.

“A woman who stands by her convictions,” Persephone says, so softly it’s only a whisper, “I can’t respect that.” It sounds more like she’s telling herself than Mal. She sighs, and Mal feels guilty again. She really _tried_ to keep her parentage from getting out, because no matter how much of a bitch Persephone is, how much Mal is _terrified_ by her, she doesn’t deserve the scorn that she’ll receive from the other Olympians.

“A choice, then,” Persephone says, mostly to herself. She looks at Mal, and her irises glow red-hot.

“I get bored of not seeing my husband,” Persephone says, “it’s _winter_ , and this is supposed to be our time together, but he’s trapped on that godforsaken Isle-”

“I’m already working to get everyone off the Isle,” Mal argues, fear clawing up her throat.

“For fuck’s sake, let me _finish,_ Korë,” the Queen of the Underworld snaps. The red in her eyes crawls through the veins around them, and she is a terrifying sight, “I _know_ , and that’s part of this deal. When you get him off the Isle, I’m not particularly interested in spending my reunion with him trying to fix the absolute _mess_ that Hell has become in his absence.”

Mal can’t, for the life of her, understand where Persephone is going with this.

“So, I think that this is a fair way for you to work off your debt to me, don't you? You take over the general running of hell for as long as your father and I think necessary."

"That could be a hundred years," Mal argues, "I have obligations on Earth, too. I can't just take over when I get my father out, _because I'll still have a war to win_."

"I've already given you a choice, Korë. Don't be _selfish_." The satisfied smile that's curling across Persephone's face tells Mal that the Queen of Hell knows _exactly_ how precarious the rock and the hard place that Mal's balanced between are and can't wait to see which one hurts her more.

"But I can be generous too," Persephone says, "I won't make you decide right now. You have a week."

"I'll expect your answer by midnight on Sunday. Don't disappoint me," she warns, and Mal won't. She doesn't know what the punishment will be, if she doesn't choose, but it can't be good.

The woman stands and strides over. Mal's expecting her to hit her, maybe, but instead, Persephone draws her into a tight embrace.

"You'll make the right choice," she whispers in Mal's ear, and then she lets go and strides towards the door, fading from the world as she goes.

* * *

“We can find another way,” Evie argues, “there’s no way that you _have_ to violate everyone like that. Like, what if everyone just _pretends_ that they don’t remember.”

Mal laughs bitterly, “E, I love you, but can you really imagine the council of Auradon agreeing to lie to Persephone to protect _me_?”

The five of them are in Ben’s room. It’s where he and Mal are officially sleeping at the moment, although sometimes one (or both) of them will find themselves in a sleeping bag in the main hall with everyone else.

Evie is sitting on the bed with Jay, and Carlos and Ben are hanging out on the lounge suite nearby. Mal stares out of the full-wall window at the palace grounds, saying nothing.

“I reckon Persephone might be able to figure it out anyway,” Carlos contends, “I mean, she’s a goddess, right? She’s probably got a pretty good grasp on whether magic was really used.”

“This is _bullshit_ ,” Jay interrupts, furious, “and you _don’t have to do this, Mal_.”

Mal turns away from the window.

“Are we sure about that, though?” she asks, trying to keep the tremor from her voice { _she fails_ }.

“Because Persephone is a goddess I made a _Promise_ to, guys. And I won’t risk any of you because I won’t compromise my _morals_.” { _she’s scoffing, and for good reason. For years, she didn’t **have any morals**. This decision would be much easier if she had to make it three years ago, and Persephone knows that_}.

“We haven’t considered the other option,” Ben offers.

“What do you mean?” Mal asks, sharp.

“I... just… how bad would it be if you had to run the Underworld?” Mal flinches back, eyes hard.

“I know our marriage has been a rushed mess, Ben, but there are easier ways to get rid of me than offering me up to _Hell_.”

“That’s not what I’m _saying_ ,” his voice is cold now, too, “Jesus Christ, Mal. I don’t know anything about the Underworld. I’m just asking if it would be impossible for you to- fuck, I don’t know- do _both_?”

Mal runs a hand down her face, walking over to join Evie and Jay on the bed. She rests her head in Jay’s lap and her feet in Evie’s { _it look so domestic, so natural, and Ben wonders about the truth to what Persephone said, earlier_ }.

“Persephone didn’t give me the second option to be _kind_. And she wouldn’t have made the offer if it didn’t hurt me _somehow_. She’s furious, that people know, and I don’t really blame her.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben says, voice cracking, “I never meant to hurt you.”

Mal all but shoots up from where she’s sitting, striding across the room again to sit with Ben.

“No, baby, no. You didn’t know. I didn’t even know it was on my birth certificate. This _isn’t your fault_ ,” she assures him, and she wonders if he believes her when his eyes flicker closed to hide what he’s feeling.

“ _Ben_ ,” she insists, hands holding his face so that she can look into his eyes, “this was _bound_ to happen. And this fucking _sucks_ , but I promised, remember. To honour and protect you. Equals in everything. And I _love_ you.”

It’s the truth, and that’s why she says it, even though she feels Carlos flinch behind her { _and her heart aches but there’s no winning here, for her, so what can she do but take small comforts where she can get them_ }.

“I love you too,” Ben whispers against her lips, and he presses a soft, warm kiss to her lips, and she can _feel_ how he’s pouring all of his love for her into it, and she tries to respond in kind.

“Okay, lovebirds, break it up,” Jay calls out from the bed and Ben blushes and Mal hunches her shoulders to protect herself from the feelings of guilt that threaten to overwhelm her.

“Sorry,” Ben mutters, but there’s a soft smile curling over his lips.

{ _Mal loves him, even though her life’s a mess and she thinks her life would’ve been much easier if he’d never tried to remove her from the Isle._

_She loves Evie, Carlos, and Jay too, even though she’s promised to **not** love them for the rest of her life and she doesn’t know how to go forward with them when she can’t touch them like she wants to_}.

“We’ll figure this out,” he tells Mal, and she wishes she could believe the absolute confidence in his voice.


	2. You Really Know How to Make Me Cry

Evie wants to call a vote- argues that if all of their kids agree, Mal should wipe their memories. Mal had forgotten about how ruthless Evie could be while they were in Auradon and there was no reason to be ruthless. But now they’re at war, and Evie’s most dangerous qualities are out to play.

Mal refuses though. Erasing memory is a violation of privacy that she won’t dare to try- the last time it had been on Ben and she’d never forgive herself for that, even though she’d failed { _Return it-- Reverse it--_

_Are you trying to spell me right now?!_ }

The days tick by, and it’s really too soon and it’s suddenly Sunday afternoon and Mal still hasn’t made a decision. That’s when she finally brings it to the War Council.

“You should’ve told us sooner.” Is all Uma says, and somehow that’s worse than anything Mal could’ve expected. Because Uma is furious at Persephone, she can see from the way it’s sparking behind her eyes, but her disappointment with Mal is winning out.

“I know, and I’m sorry.” There’s nothing else for Mal to say, not really. She _is_ sorry. She _should_ have told them sooner.

“What are we going to do?” Lonnie asks, and Mal winces.

“You don’t know,” Gil says, and it’s a statement of fact. “That’s why you’re telling us now; because you need to give your answer and you don’t have one.” Gil has a way of cutting through the bullshit everyone else tries to put forward. Mal wishes he didn’t.

“We have a couple of options-” Ben breaks in trying to defend her. She wonders if it’s possible to love anyone more than she loves him { _her love for Evie, Carlos and Jay is a different kind of love, borne of pain and trials and she refuses to compare them anymore_ }.

“But you don’t like any of them, if you’re talking to us,” Uma says, “we’re supposed to be _on the same fucking side._ We can’t be on the same side if you keep shit like this from us. That makes you just as bad as Auradon.” She holds Mal’s gaze, and Mal believes her.

There’s an echoing silence in the room. Mal can’t look at anyone as she says, “I’m being _selfish._ I should just accept Perephone’s deal. Auradon will be fine without me. You will all be fine without me.”

“ _No!_ ” Several of them cry, but she only hears Carlos, Jay and Evie.

“I won’t let you do that,” Evie tells her. “You’ve sacrificed too much for us already.” { _She doesn’t say it, but Mal knows that she means more than her power on the Isle and her mother and her anonymity- Evie means **them** , means their relationship and her marriage and she can’t think of her marriage as a sacrifice because if she does she’ll spiral and she’ll hate her husband and her life and herself and she has a war to win_}.

“What other options do we have?” Mal means it as rhetorical, but to her surprise, someone responds.

“What if you say you’ll take over and then just… _don’t_. Like, let the Underworld go to shit. Who gives a fuck?” Celia says, and she appreciates the sentiment behind it, but-

“She’ll extract a Promise out of me tonight, that I’ll follow through on whichever option I choose,” Mal tells him. “Breaking that Promise is paramount to death.”

“Okay,” Jane says, “okay. But what if you say you’ll do it and then just- don’t free him?”

“Mal may be the Queen,” Uma interrupts, “But I’ll hold her to her Promise too. _Every child currently on the Isle of the Lost will be given a chance to come to Auradon if it pleases them_. I won’t sacrifice those kids for you, Queenie. You’re not that important.”

Mal wouldn’t sacrifice those kids for her well being either. They're going in circles- she's already had all of these options, and already rejected all of them.

“I agree with Uma,” she tells them. “There’s no _way_ we’re leaving kids on the Isle so that I don’t have to keep a promise.”

“So we don’t leave the kids on the Isle.” Surprisingly, it’s Chad, of all people, who speaks up. His brow is creased and his voice is quiet, but his shoulders are squared and he sounds sure.

“How could we do that?” Uma asks, shaking her head and ready to reject him as another Auradonian who doesn’t know what they’re talking about. Chad shrugs.

“I don’t know. But if Mal promises to take over the Underworld once Hades is freed, and then frees everyone except Hades- Persephone can’t hold her to her promise.”

Mal is pretty sure that everyone’s just _staring_ at Chad. It’s probably the smartest thing he’s ever said. He shrugs again.

“When you’re tricking people into doing things for you, you get pretty good at wording things right.” He shrinks back into himself after that, and Mal wants to thank him but doesn’t know how.

“How do we do that, though?” Harry asks. “Hades is a _god_.” Like they need the reminder.

Mal stares at the map, watching the names within the palace drift around slowly as their owners move. Her eyes drift up to the master bedroom.

“I have an idea.”

She meets everyone’s eyes, one at a time, and for the first time, she thinks she sees _fear_ in them. It’s bone-chilling.

The War Council goes down to the throne room, and she explains her idea, slowly, clearly, taking her time and letting people offer up their own ideas, spells and magic. She tells them exactly what’s at stake, what will happen if they fail and what will happen if they succeed.

Then they take a vote.

It’s 84-for, none against, with five abstainers { _she, Evie, Carlos, Jay and Ben are too close to this_ }.

* * *

Persephone is waiting outside the barrier. She doesn’t need to- she’s melted right through it before. This is her trying to show respect for Mal right before she destroys her life.

“Come in, your grace,” Mal says, and her voice is bitter. They might have a plan, but that doesn’t mean that Mal isn’t _furious_ that they were put in this position in the first place. Persephone steps through the barrier like it's water, and Mal feels the pain of being unable to protect her people _burn_ within her.

This is why she can’t leave them- because she’s the only defence between them and a world that is far too magical for them. And they’re targets of this world because of her.

“I take it you’ve made a decision.” Maybe, in another time, Mal would have described her voice as beautiful, but now it’s harsh and cruel and Mal thinks it may be the ugliest thing she’s ever heard { _and she’s heard her friends’ screams of fear more times than she can count_ }.

“I’ll take over if I manage to free him,” Mal says, and she’s playing with fire because she knows that Persephone isn’t stupid enough to fall for old fey tricks but it’s worth a shot.

The queen raises an eyebrow in a challenge- _you really thought that would work?_ \- but all she says is, “Will you accompany me around the gardens?”

Mal agrees, albeit reluctantly, and she then embarks on the most awkward walk of all time. Persephone is clinging to her arm, but deathly silent. They walk for almost a mile, by Mal’s estimation, before she speaks again.

“Now that we’re out of range of your spies, Mal, do you really want to do this? Think of everything you’re _abandoning_. Isn’t this crueller than what I asked of you in the first place?”

Mal blinks at her silently, and the Queen sighs.

“Well, if this is your choice, so be it. I’d like a Promise, Korë.”

“What would you like me to say?” Mal asks placidly. She’s not promising this woman anything more than she’s forced to.

“I want you to _promise_ that you’ll take over the running of the Underworld when Hades is freed from the Isle of the Lost.”

Mal stares for a moment, letting the words wriggle around. Persephone watches her, and Mal wonders how long they stay like that.

Eventually, she breaks the silence.

“If I free Hades from the Isle of the Lost, I will take over the running of the Underworld until he returns,” she says, slowly, making sure she says what she means, and that she means what she says.

“I Promise.” She feels her magic and Persephone’s working together to bind her promise into her life force. It’s suffocating, but she lets it happen. _This is my only choice_ , she reminds herself.

Persephone examines her for another moment longer.

“That was easier than I expected,” she tells Mal, “I _do_ hope you’re not trying to play me for a fool, Korë, because it won’t work.” Mal keeps her smile as serene as she can. She’s not sure that it’s working, but then Persephone is gone- disappeared within a second.

She walks back to the palace as slowly as possible, not looking forward to the next phase of her plan. Wondering what she’ll do if it doesn’t work.

If her mother won’t agree.

* * *

The magic to turn her mother from a lizard back to a fae is fairly simple. The magic to turn her mother from a lizard to a regular, magic-free human and _hold_ her that is a whole lot more complicated.

She lights a circle of candles around the room and makes Ben create a circle of iron around her and her mother (it’s mostly made of pokers and other small pieces of iron they could find around the palace).

She begins her chant, letting the magic fill her body.

_Wiðercweðan hrycg æfter dôð morðor duru, hlêoðrian æt ðêah treddian forðrihte ðe._

_Wiðercweðan hrycg æfter dôð morðor duru, hlêoðrian æt ðêah treddian forðrihte ðe._

_Wiðercweðan hrycg æfter dôð morðor duru, hlêoðrian æt ðêah treddian forðrihte ðe._

{ _To the others in the room, it sounds like a cheesy nursery rhyme- “Come back through the Mortal door, assemble flesh and walk once more”- Mal loves them, but she’ll protect her family’s spells from even them_ }.

Seeing her mother is worse than she had thought it would be. Her mother is still terrifying, even without horns and wings and pitch-black eyes. And the pained shriek she lets out as she realises that she is _human_ , that she is the one thing she hates the _most_ , reminds Mal of days without food and being told to balance on one leg for hours at a time and being beaten if she failed.

“What do you _want_ , daughter?” she asks, and her voice is bitter. Mal can’t blame her, really. She’d rather _die_ than be _human_.

“To make you a deal,” Mal tells her, and Maleficent’s eyes snap to hers.

“What could you _possibly_ want with me?” she asks, “Considering that fact that _you_ abandoned _me_.”

“I chose a different path,” Mal argues, “one that didn’t involve genocide and enslaving everyone in Auradon.”

“ _Weak_ ,” Maleficent snarls, “You chose the _weak_ path.” Mal doesn’t rise to the bait, no matter how badly she wants to.

“I can drop the transformation right now,” she tells her mother, “and we don’t have to do this.”

“We do, though,” her mother argues, “because you wouldn’t turn to me unless you were _really_ desperate. You forget that I know you, Mal, inside and out.”

Her mother is the only one who doesn’t use the given name her father chose { _this is because Maleficent gave Mal a second name when she **made her fey** , and she refuses to acknowledge any other part of Mal’s lineage_}.

Mal nods once but remains silent. Maleficent glances around her cage.

“Clever, using iron, even though you brought me back human. You did your research, daughter.” Her eyes catch on the people Mal has strategically placed around the room, at the most powerful points of the design she had drawn on the floor.

“I see they’re still around,” she says, gesturing to Evie, Jay, and Carlos, “I’m not surprised. I’m more surprised that you invited _her_ back-” she jerked her head towards Uma, “-and that the Princeling is still around. What, did you promise to _love him forever_?”

Maleficent is trying to hit her where it hurts, but Mal won’t let her.

“Something like that”, she tells her mother, rubbing the Claddagh on the back of her hand. Her mother’s eyes catch on the movement, and _rage_ burns behind her eyes.

“You promised yourself to a _mortal_?” Her mother seethes, “not even one of _them_? You idiot girl. You could’ve had a witch or a djinn, but you choose a human prince? You sacrifice hundreds of years of fey lineage, the sacrifices I had to make to make you _half-god_ , for a _boy_?”

Mal lets her rage, lets her yell and scream in fury. For once in her life, _she_ has all of the power over her mother, and she has a _goal_. She’s not going to give that up, not even to defend her husband.

Over time, Maleficent calms down, and Mal tilts her head curiously.

“Are you done?”

“What do you _want_?” Maleficent asks again, and Mal relents.

“I want you to help me bring down the barrier,” Mal tells her, and Maleficent _laughs_.

“In case you’ve forgotten, daughter dearest, I tried to do that, _years_ ago. _You_ _stopped me_. What do you _want_?”Maybe Maleficent thinks that asking Mal a third time will compel Mal to answer truthfully. Maybe it does.

“I want to let the kids off the Isle while leaving the adults there,” Mal says, “and I’ll let you stay human if you help.”

“Why the _fuck_ would I want to be human?” Maleficent asks, but there’s a tremor in her voice and Mal knows she’s got her.

“Because you don’t want to go back to being a _lizard_ ,” Mal says { _threatens_ }.

What follows is possibly the loudest silence Mal has ever heard. It ticks past, and time fades away.

“I’ll do it,” Maleficent tells her.

“ _Promise me_ ,” Mal insists, and they’re both remembering the same thing- Maleficent gripping her arm too tight, and ‘ _Promise me you’ll steal the wand’_. Mal shoves a scrap of paper at her, where she’s written the vow she wants Maleficent to say { _the War Council had sat for hours stewing over the exact words and phrases they wanted to use. Chad had been the one to come up with the final answer_ }.

“I promise that I will help get all the children off the Isle of the Lost, while leaving the condemned villains there, in exchange for being allowed to stay human,” her mother says.

The deal is struck.

Maleficent will help them win this war, or she will die.

She has survived too long to die.

* * *

They stand in a circle. There are 13 of them, holding hands { _Mal, Maleficent, Jay, Doug, Ben, Carlos, Uma, Jane, Harry, Lonnie, Gil, Chad, Evie_ }. They’ve said their prayers to their gods, and they’ve done their research. This will work { _this has to work_ }.

_Mother magic, now we ask,_

_We have one, most vital task,_

_we must bring our youth to nest,_

_but we must not free the rest_

_Wiðtêon dôð cnæpling æt−bregdan duguð îeg_

_Blinnan wægn forgyltantæfl lêoran_

_Bearncennicge scînlâc oferhîeran ûs of pro ic biddan_

_Bearncennicge galdorcræft byrg ûs of pro ic to ûser weorc_

They chant the spell thirteen times in thirteen minutes, each time another member of the circle joining in. Magic cracks around them and lightning arcs through the room and none of them can stop, even when Mal feels the others growing weaker { _they’re human, how could she forget, they’re human and they won’t survive this_ }. She gives them her magic, and Evie and Uma and Jay give theirs, but it’s not enough, Mal can feel Ben’s life force slipping away.

Mal feels a stray tendril of wild magic, still strong. Her mother’s magic, she knows { _it feels like Audrey had felt when Mal went to fight her. It feels like abuse_ }.

Mal latches on and _pulls_ her mother’s magic into the wild mess of it, even as her mother goes limp { _she and Evie hold tighter because they **can’t break the circle**_ }. She wrestles it into submission until it tastes like her _own_ magic { _like spray paint and honey and red wine_ }.

But her priorities have shifted, and thus the spell does too, focusing on keeping her people alive instead.

The barrier is open, though, and she can’t stop what’s going to happen next.

When the spell ends, the power of the fey and the gods cracks in her bones and, with certainty, she knows four things:

Her mother is dead.

Her father is free.

She has won.

She has never been more alone.


	3. Can't Stop Staring at Your Lovely Eyes

The spell they chose to cast was one Mal had designed- there was simply no way for another spell to accomplish _quite_ what they wanted- but it hadn’t been enough. The spell had been too strong, and too many of their circle had been entirely human, and at the height of the spell, she’d been able to feel the life forces of all thirteen members of the circle fading.

And she’d made a plan.

At that moment, she had been forced to make a decision, and she had chosen family over blood. She had chosen Ben over Maleficent. Her husband over her mother. She’d grasped Maleficent’s magic and _pulled,_ hard, _dragging_ her mother’s magic and life force from her body, and pushed it into the souls of the other members of the circle- Ben, who had slumped over, only weakly holding Carlos’s hand, and Gil and Lonnie, leaning heavily on the people around them.

She did this and the magic in the room swelled, and grew frantic, and she felt her mother’s hand go limp in hers { _she knew, then, what she’d done, but she hadn’t thought about it until later_ }. And still, she held her mother’s hand { _corpse_ } tighter, because the spell wasn’t _done_ and she couldn’t let all of this be for _nothing_.

And when the spell ended, she and Evie dropped her mother’s body to the floor, running over to the King of Auradon, only barely hearing the hollow _thud_ of Maleficent hitting the floor as she cradled Ben’s head in her lap.

Carlos dropped beside her, holding her even as magic hummed over her skin, letting off tiny sparks. Jay stood behind them, watching as Uma dropped to care for Harry and Gil, and Chad, Jane, Doug and Lonnie huddled on the floor.

Evie was the one who threw open the doors, looking out towards the Isle of the Lost. Her gasp was so soft, Carlos next to her likely couldn’t even hear it. But Mal could. And besides that, she already knew what it meant, because she had let the focus of the spell shift.

The spell that had taken Maleficent’s life hadn’t been strong enough to keep Hades on the Isle. She has set the people of the Isle free- all of them. She has beaten the heroes. She has been condemned to protecting Hell.

She has never been more alone.

* * *

Mal stares up at the ceiling of the Palace of Hell.

She’s been in the same position for so long that her limbs are stiff. She’s more like the bodies of the souls she’s meant to guard than she would like, but she can’t bring herself to move.

She’s been lying in the same position for nearly a decade now, she thinks. Maybe more. Time went wobbly, at some point after the sixth century of being the Regent of Hell. It was inconsistent, and, to tell the truth, unimportant.

Her hair is midnight blue and if she stood up would trail behind her on the floor { _she doesn’t stand up_ }. The nightgown she’s wearing is thin, now, and discoloured (once, it was the colours of Auradon. Now, it’s white) { _she doesn’t change_ }. She’s grown thin, thinner than Evie was at her worst times on the Isle (she knows because she’s _so cold-_ there’s nothing left to her) { _she doesn’t eat_ }.

Of course, none of this keeps her from fulfilling her promise- but, as it turns out, the Underworld can mostly take care of itself. She’s not needed nearly as desperately as her step-mother had made it seem, all those years ago { _then again, time passes differently for the gods like it does for her now. Maybe after a millennium, ten years will feel like mere seconds to her as well_ }.

“Your grace,” someone says at the door, and she hums in response, not bothering to move. They cough and try again. “Your grace?”

She’d been trying to see how long she could lie still before she simply got so _bored_ that she could actually sleep, but it seemed that that wouldn’t be allowed. She sat up, sighing and cracking her neck.

“Yes-” she broke off, staring at the servant, trying to remember their name. _Was it important?_

“Kharon.” The servant told her, dead-faced. She wondered how long they’d been at _their_ job. She wondered if they hated it as much as she hated hers.

“Kharon,” she echoed, trying to sound as though the name meant something to her { _maybe it had, once upon a time, but it had been a while since she’d had to use words, and she was still regaining the feeling for them_ }, “what is it?”

“Someone who requests to see you, your Grace.” She silently raised an eyebrow, but the point was conveyed very clearly- _who the fuck thinks they have the right?_

She swung her feet over the bed and took a second to brace herself before standing up. She tipped but didn’t fall over. Kharon caught her elbow and placed her arm over theirs.

“Thank you.”

The words were foreign- she likely hadn’t said them since- _no._ She didn’t think about Auradon. _She didn’t_.

As she made for the door, Kharon coughed again.

“What _is_ it?” She asked, spinning to face them.

“Your- uh- your attire may not be considered entirely _appropriate,_ your grace.”

She laughed { _the last time she had laughed had been- several hundred years ago, at least_ }.

“I’m the Queen,” she told them, “who’s going to say anything?”

“ _Regent_ -” the ghoul tried to interject, but Mal just rolled her eyes.

“My father and his _bitch_ of a wife haven’t been seen in six centuries, Kharon. I’ve been the Queen of the Underworld since I fucking arrived.”

Kharon said nothing, but their silent disapproval permeated the room.

“ _Fine_ ,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. She stretched her arms out above her, closing her eyes as her hair grew backwards into the short cut she’d kept it in as a teenager on the Isle. Her frayed nightgown replaced itself with an evening dress made only of lace. A crown of dying roses and ivory found its place atop her head.

She took Kharon’s arm again, letting them lead her through the twists and turns of the palace she’d once known and since forgotten.

As they approached the doors to the throne room together, a cold voice announced, “Her Majesty Queen Mal, High Queen over Auradon and the Isle and Regent of the Underworld presiding.”

Mal entered, letting her bare feet peek out from underneath the dress. Next to her, Kharon rolled their eyes, and she smiled at them.

“Well?” she asked as she settled on the stairs below the throne { _it wasn’t hers, after all_ }.

“W- _Well?”_ the woman below her echoed. “Mal, it’s _me.”_

Mal didn’t remember the woman in question at _all._ She had ice blonde hair and deep brown eyes, and something in them made Mal halt.

“ _Should I?_ ”

“It’s _me_ ,” the woman bit out, heartbreak in her throat. “It’s _Evie_.”

* * *

“So… what do we do now?” Evie asks her from the balcony.

Mal looks up from where her forehead is pressed against Ben’s.

“Do?”

“Yeah,” Evie says, “What's’ our backup plan? What’s the next step?” Mal’s body freezes.

“There isn’t one.”

She can’t break Evie’s stare even as the other girl’s eyes bore into her.

“What the fuck is _that_ supposed to mean?” Carlos asks, his voice loud in her ear. That’s what manages to pull her from her ex-girlfriend.

“It means it’s _over_ , okay? We won, and now I keep my promise.”

“You’ve broken a Promise before-”

“I _haven’t!”_ She shrieks, moving away from Ben. She can feel his and Uma’s eyes on her, but she can’t stop herself.

“I _duped_ the system. I didn’t break a Promise, I nullified it! It didn’t _matter_ that Ben had Promised me his kingdom because it was _already mine_. I _cheated_ my father, okay, and now it’s come back to _bite_ me.”

“To be fair, it was a clever plan,” a gravelly voice says behind her.

“Daddy,” she says, without turning around. She’s only heard it a couple of times, but she recognizes her father’s voice.

“Korë.” He’s examining the room carefully, and when she turns to look at him, he’s staring at Maleficent’s body, still lying where she and Evie had dropped it.

“It got me for long enough, didn’t it?” He says, “you got the ember.”

Mal heaves a sigh and brushes the pads of her fingers across her cheekbones, eliminating any moisture that gathered there.

“It doesn’t matter now,” she tells him, “I have a kingdom to run.” His eyes soften as he looks at her.

“You can take your time, Korë,” he tells her softly, but his voice isn’t made to be gentle and it sounds calculating instead, “I don’t mind briefly returning home while you sort things out on this end.” By the way his eyes drift over to where Ben, Carlos and Jay are standing (Ben now resting heavily on Jay and Carlos) she assumes he means her marriage and not the escapees from the Isle when he says ‘things’.

“In exchange for?” She prompts and rolls her eyes when he tries to act shocked. “I’ve spent enough time around my step-mother to understand that the lot of you never do anything for free.”

“In exchange for- a favour, to be determined at a future date,” he says. And Mal’s eyes wander over to her mother’s body where it’s lying (they should really move it, or at least close her eyes) and remembers one of the pieces of advice her mother gave her as a child when she was still _making Mal fey- don’t give handouts. We’re not Seelie. We don’t do favours for friends. We’re fey, and we have pride._

“No,” she says shaking her head. She locks eyes with her father, and he must know her decision is made, because he nods once and says, “I’ll give you a minute to say goodbye.”

It’s all he can afford her, and she’s grateful anyway. What a sad state her life is in, at this point.

And maybe she’ll regret it later, but as he steps out onto the balcony, she doesn’t go to her husband.

She goes to Evie, Carlos, and Jay.

She pulls them tight into her, soaking in their scents and trying to commit them to her memory.

She holds Carlos’s face in her hands and kisses him, hard. She lets her right hand wander over to rest on Evie’s where it’s set on her shoulder and leans back into the other girl, letting her kiss the exposed expanse of skin. The tears run down her cheeks as she presses her forehead to Jay’s.

“We’ll go with you.” Carlos offers. She shakes her head, and the tears go flying.

“I can’t let you-”

“It’s not about _letting_ us.” Carlos argues, “I heard what Persephone told you- that she- that _Aphrodite_ thought that _we_ \- the four of us- belonged together.”

“It’s us, Mal,” Jay told her, “It’s like I _told_ you, nothing will stop us from loving you for the rest of our lives.”

Mal let her breath fall out of her in one long sigh.

“We’ve been through a _lot_ , together. We’re not stopping that now.”

“We’re not,” Mal agrees, “We’re together in _everything_ , always. It’s the four of us. And when you die, you can join me. But until then- I will _never_ forgive myself if you’re all condemned to this too, because of my mistakes- you have to _promise_ me,” she continues forcefully when it looks like Evie wants to break in, “all four of you have to promise me that you’ll live out a full life because I _can’t_ let you ruin your lives for me.”

There’s a long silence, and then Jay nods.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, voice thick with tears, “I Promise.”

He’s not fey, and not obligated to keep his promise beyond anything more than his word, but she knows he will. Because she’s asked him to.

“ _Jay!”_ Evie hisses, sounding offended.

“It’s what she wants, E,” he tells her, and for a second, there’s a silent battle of wills going on above Mal’s head before Evie relents too.

“I Promise,” she swears.

“Carlos?” The eyes of the other three are on him, and the entire room as well.

“I don’t want to do it,” he says. “You’ve been there for me since I was _six_ , Mal, let me do this for you.”

It’s the first time any of the four of them have mentioned the odd jobs Mal used to do for them when they were children, and something in Mal _shatters_ because there’s something so very final about it.

“That would mean that I would have to stop protecting you,” she tells him, “and you know I can’t do that.”

When Carlos nods, it’s resigned. It’s tired and small.

“I Promise.”

She pulls away from them and walks over to her mother, closing her eyes and nudging her limbs until it looks like she’s just sleeping.

_“_ Êower brêostloca wuduwe mid wægn gyden,” she whispers. _Your soul remains with the goddess._

She stands up and finds herself caught in Uma’s arms.

“Look after yourself, your majesty,” the sea-witch says, and Mal thinks that finally, all their past has been forgiven. _Home,_ her magic sings, _home._

“You know I will.” She has to swallow again because the tears threaten to choke her. Uma stares at her for another second, long and hard, before nodding and pulling away.

Eventually, Mal is standing at Ben’s side. He’s crying too, but she doesn’t think it’s just because she’s leaving.

“Did you _ever_ love me?” He asks her, and his voice cracks before he’s halfway through the sentence.

“I did.” Mal has to pause and bite her tongue, “I still do.”

“But not as much as them.”

“Different to them,” she corrects, but she thinks the damage is done.

“Live a good life?” She asks him. “And promise me you’ll protect those kids.”

He nods fervently, pauses a second, and presses a last, sweet kiss to her lips.

She doesn’t need to ask him for a verbal promise. Ben is the best man she’s ever known.

She stops one last time, to kiss the great loves of her life. She kisses each of them- first Jay, and then Evie, and then Carlos { _she thinks about how it’s the reverse order of how she’d kissed them that first New Years’ Day and thinks of it like opening and closing brackets to their relationship_ }.

The Claddagh on her left hand aches softly, and she wishes there was a way to end this that didn’t end in heartbreak.

“I’m ready,” she tells Hades, and they step forward, off the balcony, and disappear.

* * *

“Evie?”

She doesn’t look anything like Mal remembers her- white hair, plain cotton clothing, tanned skin. She isn’t seventeen years old anymore, and it shows.

“Mal.”

Evie’s voice is so _terribly_ sad, but Mal remembers it now, and an instinct deep inside her moves her to stand up and run down the stairs, to take Evie in her arms. And hold her so tight she can’t possibly get away.

“Evie, what are you _doing_ here?” She eventually manages to ask, when she can do more than sob into her lover’s chest. Evie smiles softly, warmly.

“I grew _old_ , Mal.” Mal frowns- there’s something wrong with that, something that doesn’t add up.

“You’re a witch.” She tells Evie, and Evie _laughs_ and Mal hasn’t heard something so beautiful in centuries.

“Yes, I am.” Evie agrees. Mal moves them so that they’re sitting on the stairs, at the base of the throne. She strokes Evie’s hair, just taking comfort in the other woman being _there_ and _real_.

“Witches live a long time.” It’s taking her long- too long- to get the point she’s trying to make across, but every couple of seconds she’s just overwhelmed by _Evie_ and has to take a moment to marvel at her.

“They do.” Evie seems content to let her riddle this out at her own pace, and so Mal accepts her gift and continues staring softly at her as she does, drinking her in.

“You didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t,” Evie agrees with her.

“You _Promised_ ,” Mal accuses. Evie sighs softly and takes Mal’s hands in her own.

“I lived a full life, Mal. I promise I did. I saw the world, I helped the kids of the Isle- I _had_ kids,” she tells her, “two girls. But I didn’t _want_ to live seven-, eight-hundred years, especially not when I’d be living them alone.”

“Jay’s a djinn,” Mal says because she knows it to be true, even if the fact is only partially there, hidden in some deep corner of her mind.

“A _free_ djinn,” Evie corrects softly, “Who ages at the same rate as any other human.”

Mal stares at Evie for so long, she wonders if she’s slipped back into the dream-like state she’d been in the last ten years.

And then the dam breaks.

She kisses Evie, hard and happy, and she’s _not alone_ anymore.

“The others are coming?” she asks when they finally come up for air.

“Soon, probably,” Evie confirms, and Mal’s smile cracks her lips.

“God, E, I’m so glad you’re here. It’s been a long six hundred years.”

“ _Six hundred?_ ” Evie shrieks and Mal frowns, confused. “Is this wrong for you?”

“Yeah, Mal,” Evie tells her. “Humans don’t live six hundred years- it’s closer to _sixty_. I was eighty-four when I died.”

Evie stares at her, horrified, and suddenly Mal wonders how she couldn’t remember this woman- _this_ look on Evie is so intimately familiar.

“Mal,” she asks in a hushed tone, “ _how long have you been here?_ ”

“Six hundred and forty-two years, eight months, and eleven days,” Kharon tells Evie from where they’re standing at attendance, and Mal shoots them a grateful smile. They grin back, (although it’s really more like a grimace when most of their skin is gone).

Evie promptly bursts into tears and then flings herself into Mal’s arms.

“I’m _so sorry_ ,” she cries, “ _I’m so so sorry Mal, it wasn’t supposed to be so long_.” To be honest, Mal isn’t quite sure why Evie is apologizing- it’s not _her_ fault she took so long to die- if anyone’s at fault, it’s Thanatos, or maybe Cer.

But Mal spent seventeen years comforting Evie, and it’s one thing that she knows how to do, and can do it well.

*

As it turns out, Evie being around is really good for Mal. She eats more, and tries to fall asleep less, and doesn’t spend decades staring at the ceiling anymore.

Evie fixes Persephone’s garden, bringing all the plants inside it back from the dead. Mal doesn’t know how she does it, as they’ve been dead for several centuries, but then again, they’d recently established that time in the Underworld was more wobbly than even she knew, so maybe it wasn’t that difficult.

She also tells Mal what became of all of them after she left- of how Audrey never woke up { _Mal knows this much- she’d watched the princess walk in several centuries ago. She hadn’t stopped to say hello_ }. Of Ben naming Mal _high queen_ over Auradon so that she’d always have a place to return to when she was released from her promise. Of his marriage to Uma, of all people. Of everything she, Jay and Carlos had done together. Of their two daughters- Cali and _Maleficent_. For her, for _Mal_.

They while the time away like that- and it takes several decades before Mal is summoned to the throne room for another guest.

It’s not Jay or Carlos.

Ben is kneeling before the throne, and Mal hides out of his frame of vision for a second and just watches him. Evie told her about all the amazing things he did, and Mal still loves him, but not the way she was _supposed_ to. The festering skin around the Claddagh is enough to tell her that, even if she didn’t know it in her heart of hearts. Still.

“Stand up, Ben,” she tells him. “You don’t kneel before me. You don’t kneel before anyone.”

He does stand up, and she hugs him.

“It’s good to see you,” they tell each other, and then laugh at the synchronicity.

“So, tell me about your wife,” Mal requests, and his face _lights up_.

Ben eventually moves on to Elysium, where Uma is waiting { _Uma was picked up by Cer long before Thanatos came for Ben_ }.

*

Jay and Carlos come within hours of each other.

It’s Jay first, surprisingly, and Mal thinks it’s funny that out of the four of them, Carlos was supposed to have the shortest lifespan, and ended up living the longest.

Jay looks closest to how she remembers him as a teenager- long hair, no sleeves, devil-may-care attitude. He holds her tight and presses a kiss to her brow and Evie cradles the both of them to her and Mal thinks that she could stay like that for another hundred years if she needed to.

She doesn’t, though, because another pair of arms wrap themselves around her from behind, and she doesn’t need to look at him to know who it is, because he still _smells_ the same { _like leather and old paper and electric smoke_ }.

And she’s home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, that's a wrap on the Korë-verse. At least for now. And let me tell you all, I've been _so_ flattered by the amazing response to it. Every fic that someone posts that is inspired by the Korë-verse is the most beautiful thing I've ever read. Every comment is so kind. 
> 
> I was really annoyed with Descendants 3, and Korë was only ever supposed to be a handy tool to vent my frustration. It was supposed to be 3 chapters long, and written within the week of D3's release.
> 
> Ya'll are the ones who inspired me to go further, to make more out of Korë. Thank you for that.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to you. To Fraus_Shafiq, WriterWriterWriter, TooManyBooksToRead, misanfaery, lawsofchaos, Lilith_666. To everyone else who commented or left kudos or just read the story and enjoyed it. And, of course, to Jules.
> 
> Love,  
> Harley

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thesunoneyelashes)!


End file.
